Who Else Wants to Feel Free?

I can’t be the only one. At least I hope not. I live in a country that has long been a defender of freedom. I serve a Savior who died and rose to give me freedom. And yet all too often, I don’t feel all that free.

Photo via http://sevensentences.com/2011/03/13/the-unholy-sabbath

It’s not the usual chains one might imagine. For some, their family feels like an unwelcome weight. Not for me. For others it’s pressure from peers or friends. I suppose there’s some of that in all of us. But the tyrant I seem to fear most is — me.

Most of the frustrations in my life come from the expectations I place on myself. I had a plan for the day. I got off plan. Therefore, I must be mentally scourged for failing. Dishing out that penalty takes more time, of course, which leads to even greater angst.

I had a list of things to accomplish in the day. The list was impossible in the space of anyone’s twenty-four hours. Still, impossible is no excuse for failure, right? So I end the day condeming myself and sighing that I just can’t seem to get anything done, in spite of the fact that I accomplished more in a day than most would think of attempting.

It’s still not enough. It’s never enough.

I am a cruel taskmaster.

My hope lies in the freeing words of Christ. “No man can serve two masters.” I can’t serve both God and me. I must choose. My load is oppressivly heavy. I can’t bear it. I’ve figured that out. And even when I think I just might be able to pull it off, I pile on more just to keep myself in my place. Weird, I know. But maybe we’re more alike than I know.